Page 115 of DeLucas After Dark

Vito gazed into my eyes, a soft smile playing on his lips. "You are my greatest gift, amore."

As the snow continued to fall outside, we remained embraced. The small glass angel in Vito's hand seemed to shimmer even brighter, reflecting the radiance of our love. I couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the world we had created together. The darkness of my past seemed so far away, replaced by the love and warmth that filled every corner of our home.

"Let's finish decorating, amore," Vito suggested, breaking our warm embrace. "We've got a magical Christmas to create for our little man."

"Sounds perfect," I agreed, picking up another ornament and adding it to the tree. As we worked side by side, our laughter and love filling the air, I knew that this Christmas would be one to remember – not just for Antonio, but for all of us.

Vito

All I Want For Christmas

Istood on the balcony overlooking the snow-covered streets. I took a deep breath, inhaling the cold fresh air. The holidays were always a time for family, and yet, I never felt this loved and connected when I was growing up.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. Glancing at the screen, I saw my mother's name flash across it. We saw less of each other since she left my father and moved back to Italy to be closer to her father, Don Costa. But we had made it our business to speak to each other at least weekly.

"Hello?" I answered hesitantly. Though we had a much better relationship these days, I couldn’t help but tread lightly whenever it came to my parents.

"Vito, my son," her voice was heavy with emotion, tinged with urgency. "I know the holidays are approaching and it’s all about family and good times, so I hate to call you with this, but there is something you must know. So, I will get right to the point…" She paused and proceeded to not get right to the point.

"What is it, Mama?" I asked, leaning against the railing, my heart beginning to race. She never called and started a conversation on a bad note, so whatever she had to say was about to put me in a bad mood.

"Your father...he had another son," she confessed, pausing as if waiting for me to react.

My grip tightened around the phone, my knuckles turning white. Of course, if there was bad news, it had to be about my father. Alfonso DeLuca. The itch to my scratch. The illness to my medicine. Everything associated with my father was bad news, but another son? How could that be? I had been my parents’ only child all of my life.

"Another son?" I managed to choke the words out into reality.

"Yes. Alfonso has never been a faithful man as most of our friends and acquaintances know. He had a child by one of his mistresses when you were only a toddler.” Her voice cracked as she revealed more. “And you know him.”

I shook my head, my heart wanting to reject everything my mother was saying, but my mind knew there was a good chance she spoke the truth. “Who is he?” I asked in disbelief.

“Marcello," she said solemnly.

“Marcello DeLuca, the capo?” I clarified. "Marcello?" The name fell from my lips like a curse. A long-lost brother, hidden in plain sight from me all these years by my own family.

"Yes. The man you think is your cousin, is actually your brother. He lived as Ramani's child, so no one would know he was truly Alphonso's son. It was a secret we kept, even from you."

Betrayal coiled in my chest like a serpent, its venomous bite seething with anger and hurt. My mother's words hung heavy in the air between us, a revelation that threatened to shatter our reconciliation, our new understanding, and everything I knew.

"Vito, please understand," she implored, her voice trembling now. "Your father wanted to protect his image and your brother. The mafia world is unforgiving, and if anyone found out that Marcello was his son and unprotected by the DeLucas, they could have harmed him.”

“So, he grew up ignorant of his true lineage. That’s protection?" My voice was cold, barely concealing the bitterness festering within. "By keeping him in the dark? By not letting me know I have a brother?"

"It was your father’s product of infidelity and his choice," she said softly but with a bit of a bite. "I’m only telling you now because I have been informed Marcello is in danger, and even though I have no reason to care for my husband’s illegitimate child, he is your brother and I care about you."

"Is there anything else you've kept from me?" I demanded, my heart pounding against my ribcage, threatening to break free.

"Nothing, Vito," she insisted. "This is the only secret. I swear it on your grandfather's grave."

Part of me didn’t want to know, but another part of me had to ask, “Did Don Ermano know?”

“Ramani and your father kept this information from the Don. Neither Don Ermano nor Don Enzo knows about many of your father’s mess-ups. Your father had a few loyal friends and family that helped cover up his mistakes so that he wouldn’t be exiled from the family,” she divulged.

I breathed a sigh of relief. I shared everything with my grandfather, so it would have hurt to know that he kept this from me. It would have hurt even more to know Enzo was keeping this from me.

The line went silent, leaving me to grapple with the bitter pill I was forced to swallow. A brother, hidden away like a dirty secret. And now, as the snowflakes fell gently around me, it didn’t feel like a winter wonderland, it felt like a brewing storm as my family's deceit threatened to crush me beneath its icy grip.

“I’ll talk to you later, Mama,” I said, disconnecting the call without any of our usual goodbyes. She would normally talk to Nicole and then babble with Antonio as he cooed for her, but the news of Marcello being my brother weighed too heavily on me for niceties.

---